death warmed up

I'm the first person to attack someone for being a pansy when they get a cold - especially men, who seem to think they are dying when they have a slight sniffle - but this morning, I woke literally feeling like death warmed up. No amount of pruning and preening myself this morning can make me remotely attractive, with my bulbus red nose, droopy eyes and constant snuffling. I forced myself out of my (well, Chefs's) bathrobe and slippers and made it to the supermarket on a mercy mission. I bought any amount of Cold and Flu tablets, capsules and hot drinks I could lay my hands on, some super expensive but very pretty pink tissues, a lemon which cost about $4 and a large packet of butter menthol. The lady at the counter did the usual 'how are you today' grunt, and I couldn't even dignify that with a response. It's like when I have The Monthly Curse and I wind up at the checkout with 3 packs of maternity pads, a box of tissues and 4 family size blocks of chocolate, and they dare ask how I am on that fine day.

So I'm quickly guzzling hot lemon & honey and stuffing myself with Lemsip before I start my second afternoon at my job. Our Riding for the Disabled branch is the only exemption from the lock down due to Equine Flu on a Tuesday, as they are running a research program with the Royal Childrens Hospital, so I'll be busy calming the 9 horses down from being horribly grumpy after about 5 hours straight walking in circles.

Thank god for indoor arenas and fluffy woollen scarves on a day like today.
What happened to Spring being sprung?